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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29246937">Weeping Angels</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/skittykitty/pseuds/skittykitty'>skittykitty</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Rapunzel's Tangled Adventure (Cartoon), Tangled (2010)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Emotional Hurt No Comfort, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Child Neglect, Moonstone!Quirin, Quirin Does Not Make Good Choices, Quirin Is An Idiot, Temporary Character Death, Varian is Encased In Amber, he’s in the amber</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 11:07:03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,558</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29246937</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/skittykitty/pseuds/skittykitty</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Quirin wasn’t fast enough to save his son from the amber. All alone, he goes to old friends for help.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Quirin &amp; Varian (Disney)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>66</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Weeping Angels</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Thank you <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cultivation/pseuds/Cultivation">Cultivation</a> for betaing this!!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>His little boy was hunched over, curling into himself. Quirin could see tears dripping down his face, even hours after the amber had stuck in place.</span>
</p>
<p><span>Varian’s final moments— moments he had taken to support everyone </span><em><span>but</span></em><span> himself—</span> <span>would be his legacy. Quirin had the Dark Kingdom, Adira and Hector, was the first leader of Old Corona, and holder of King Frederick’s secrets as his own personal legacy. </span></p>
<p>
  <span>His son had not been given enough </span>
  <em>
    <span>time. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He was only fourteen; he hadn’t courted a girl, hadn’t had his first sip of alcohol— </span>
  <em>
    <span>Varian had never left Corona.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Varian deserved life so much more than Quirin ever did. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His gloves creaked under the pressure, dark brown eyes staring at the frozen visage of his son.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Varian deserved so much better.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Varian deserved to be safe.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Varian deserved to live.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Quirin made promises before— broken them, kept them, and lived by them. But these... he would stand by. He would do anything for his son.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Even break his oath to King Edmund.</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“The princess promised she would help! Just go to the castle— I’ll be fine!”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>He waited until after the blizzard ended to begin his journey. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>(The corpse of his son gripped on his shoulders. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Your fault, </span>
  </em>
  <span>his little boy whispered.)</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He should have moved faster— been there before Varian’s arm had gotten caught in the amber— been able to do more than be pushed away by his twig of a son.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His son wasn’t built for war— for </span>
  <em>
    <span>pain</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was built like his mother, for discovery and </span>
  <em>
    <span>science.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Varian had tried for years to explain the science behind his inventions.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>If you mix the green and purple, you get an explosion, Dad.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Quirin smiled, his eyes missing the spark behind them. Varian was such a smart kid.</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Explosions aren’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>that </span>
  <em>
    <span>dangerous, Dad! Just try one out, and even if it does kill me… what’s the point?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>A day passed before the storm settled down. It took him another day to check on everyone inside of Old Corona and help mourn those who hadn’t survived. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He told no one of Varian’s fate.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was three days before he disappeared from his village. His pack was filled with basic survival equipment and Varian’s alchemy experiments and notebook.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It would be a long journey, and it was nice to know </span>
  <em>
    <span>something </span>
  </em>
  <span>of him had survived.</span>
</p>

<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <em>
      <span>The green stuff (Flynnolium!) is very unique!! It reacts with almost anything and usually a pretty big one too! Dad always gets mad when he catches me playing with it, considering it usually blows up or sets things on fire. </span>
    </em>
  </p>
</blockquote><p>
  <span>Quirin smiled at his son’s musings, staring at a sphere filled with a purple liquid. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I wonder… </span>
  </em>
  <span>but no, he wouldn’t waste the last of Varian’s experiments like that.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Flipping through pages, he found a drawing of a similar-looking sphere.</span>
</p>

<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <em>
      <span>I’m not sure what to call this yet. Maybe something along the lines of its stickiness? Who knows! Well, the sphere is easily broken from smashing it into the ground and the substance is made from mixing water, milk, and some vinegar. I usually add some food coloring for added flair, but that’s optional!</span>
    </em>
  </p>
</blockquote><p>
  <span>It could be used to suffocate people,— to trap them in war, to </span>
  <em>
    <span>hurt— </span>
  </em>
  <span>but Varian used it to keep Ruddiger out of his lab.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And, of course, Ruddiger would never let himself be forgotten. The animal reminded him of his brother, half-feral as he had always been. That was probably why he’d let the poor thing join him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Not because Ruddiger had been Varian’s.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Of course not.</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Take care of Ruddiger for me, won’t you?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>It took two days of travel before things took a turn for the worse.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The world was calm for two days, allowing him time to read his son’s journal; allowing whispers of his son’s voice— of the last half hour of his life— to haunt him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He memorized his son’s scrawl— wishing, for once, that he’d told Varian of his family’s past. Of the Dark Kingdom. Of Hector, Adira, and Edmund. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Varian would never learn how to speak their kingdom’s language— never wear their typical cloaks. Never understand what the Brotherhood’s symbol meant to his father.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His breath caught a slightly feral sound escaping him. Something between a sob and a scream— his son was </span>
  <em>
    <span>gone </span>
  </em>
  <span>and it was all his fault.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He should have been faster.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>A parent should never go to their child’s funeral, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he could almost hear Adira’s murmur. They had watched Edmund send his son away, watched the visceral pain spread throughout their king.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Over the sounds of a mourning father, Quirin could hear footsteps slowly approaching him. A hand grasped the hilt of his sword. Time slowed as he stared at his son’s journal open on his lap. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He could prioritize the impending fight or what was left of his son. Of course, there wasn’t truly a choice.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Quirin carefully put his son’s journal away, letting go of the sword strapped to his back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why are you here?” Three people came out of the surrounding trees, suspicion in their gazes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m just passing through.” Dark eyes watched them, whispers of </span>
  <em>
    <span>am I strong enough? </span>
  </em>
  <span>and </span>
  <em>
    <span>how dangerous are they? </span>
  </em>
  <span>playing through his mind. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The group stared at him, his sword, and the supplies on his horse. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You can go through,” they decided. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Life moved on, and Quirin’s quest continued.</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“This isn’t your fault. It’s all mine.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>It took two months for him to reach the Dark Kingdom.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The former warrior sat beside the chasm— the only thing between a king and one of his most loyal. (He would never be able to beat Hector in loyalty.) </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Soon, I can be with my family again. </span>
  </em>
  <span>The thought motivated him for the past few tedious months. It would have to last a few more nights.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Quirin was so much— the leader of Old Corona, a warrior, a hunter, a brother-in-arms, </span>
  <em>
    <span>a father</span>
  </em>
  <span>— that sometimes he forgot who he truly was.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was a monster, just like everyone else.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Come home, </span>
  </em>
  <span>whispered his mind. </span>
  <em>
    <span>See your son.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A fire was started from nearby trees, smoke rising towards the castle. Towards Edmund.</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“I’m sorry for disappointing you.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>By the next day, Edmund stood on the opposite side of the chasm. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Twin brown eyes stared at one another, both reliving the old days— the days where Hector would fall asleep in a tree, making them search for him all night. The days when Adira managed to best him in a fight.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A time when they were a family.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I’ve lost everything, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Quirin’s eyes screamed. Even from the distance, Edmund seemed to understand his old friend.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His king reached out a hand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Quirin reached back.</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Be happy.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>By nightfall on the next day, Quirin was home. The castle was somehow worse than before, completely overrun with the black rocks. The once-beautiful structure now in ruination, with a lonely king to guard its treasure.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Quirin, my friend,” his king murmured. “What are you doing here?” Without pause, he turned away from Quirin. “Not that he’ll know, but it’s nice to see him again. Even if he’ll have to leave soon.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He smiled at his king. “My son has… he is in a very dangerous situation and needs help.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Edmund looked skeptical but intrigued. “What kind of help?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Those black rocks— he made some kind of chemical reaction and now he is trapped in their amber.” His king was silent for a long moment, taking in everything.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How can I help you, old friend?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Let me use the Moonstone.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Be here for me.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Let me finally rest.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nothing.” He settled on, a grimace on his features. “You can’t help me.”</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Please… don’t do anything rash, Dad.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Dad? </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The whisper of Varian’s voice woke him up in the night. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Dad, you can save me.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Quirin crept out of bed, hoping Edmund wouldn’t get in his way— knowing he’d never be able to explain.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The doors of the Moonstone chamber echoed loudly as he slammed them open.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Dad?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was a step away from the Moonstone when—</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Quirin?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His son— </span>
  <em>
    <span>Varian </span>
  </em>
  <span>needed this. It didn’t matter if it killed him. If he could save Varian—</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Quirin, no— stop!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Thank you, Dad.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His hand wrapped around the Moonstone.</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“I love you, Dad.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>It didn’t take long to get home with the power of the Moonstone on his side.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Even less to see his son— frozen in time... when he had </span>
  <em>
    <span>left him. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Varian, who Quirin had always put second. Always saw his mother in. Always abandoned when times got tough.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Not anymore.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Never again.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Quirin put his hand on the amber, watching the original rock it all sprouted from grow back into the ground. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For this moment, the Moonstone and Quirin’s goal was one and the same. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Free him, </span>
  </em>
  <span>they whispered as one.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Blue eyes stared at their son. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Shatter.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cracks began to grow through the amber, with his son as the epicenter. Hope was an unfurling growth in his chest. For most of his life, he had never given into it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But now—</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Come back, son. Come back to us.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In the remains of the amber, they— Quirin and the Moonstone— fished their son out of their mistakes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They could have saved him once before, but now they would make sure no one could ever hurt him again. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I hope you enjoyed! I might make a sequel to this of Varian's POV after the fact.</p>
<p>You can find me on my <a href="https://skitter-kitteruwu.tumblr.com/">tumblr</a>  where you can pester me to finish half-thought out ideas and scream to me about fics!!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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